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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23723626">All I Want For Christmas Is You</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/HogwartsToAlexandria/pseuds/HogwartsToAlexandria'>HogwartsToAlexandria</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Marie Ships it All Shorts 2020 [45]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Doctor Strange (2016), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Christmas, Cooking, Domestic Fluff, Friendship, Gen, Music, Sanctum Sanctorum (Marvel), Stephen Strange &amp; Wong Friendship, sharing blankets</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-04-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 22:41:07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,745</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23723626</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/HogwartsToAlexandria/pseuds/HogwartsToAlexandria</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Just a couple of boys learning to be friends, being snarky at each other out of love, listening to music and arguing about movies.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Stephen Strange &amp; Wong</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Marie Ships it All Shorts 2020 [45]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1649596</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Gen Freeform Exchange2020</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>All I Want For Christmas Is You</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/rosecake/gifts">rosecake</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>An IMMENSE thank you to Betheflame for this, without her I would never have been able to complete this fic on time and she made it infinitely better so. Yes. Thank you I love you forever but that was a given ❤</p><p>To my giftee, I sincerely hope you enjoy the read. These are two of my favorite characters so it was fun to write them like this even though I'm a ship writer so it was harder than i thought to write gen haha! Thank you for your lovely prompts as well.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The gush of wind that rushes along with him as Wong steps into the Sanctum Sanctorum after his daily walk is frigid. He pushes the door back with his shoulder as well as both his hands so it will jam into the lock correctly and smiles, satisfied, when he hears the tell-tale metallic sound that says he did it. He rubs his gloved hands together as he walks into the lobby, stopping as usually does to take in the atmosphere of the place, to let the rather majestic view of the stairs and colored-glass windows sink in. When home looks and feels like this, you appreciate it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Arriving at the coat rack, Wong gets rid of his cape-coat, shaking it a bit to get rid of some droplets of water, then pulled his gloves off, and finally got rid of his scarf. He feels cold, but figures the house will warm him in a bit, so he toes off his boots and replaces them with his yarn-knitted slippers. He wiggles his toes inside them, watching the golden motifs wriggle, and breathes. Thank God for anti-rain spells. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Only when he's all set and ready to head to the library for a nice and relaxing evening does Wong pause to wonder where Stephen is. And only then does he start hearing the faintest notes of music coming from deep down the hallway, from the kitchen. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He frowns, and moves slowly towards it. He opens the door as quietly as he can, his eyebrows already raised as each step closer has turned the volume of Stephen's singing along to his Mariah Carey playlist louder.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wong does not laugh out loud where Stephen Strange is concerned. Only sometimes the man makes it really hard not to. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tonight is one of those nights.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Cloak is hovering in the corner, as if watching over its master with the same consternation Wong feels filling him steadily at the spectacle going down in front of him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Strange is currently busy swirling around the kitchen island, stepping and jumping every which way, a spatula in hand, then a large spoon, then a knife he really shouldn't slice across the air like this. The entire kitchen is a mess, three of the cupboards are still open from whenever he needed something from them and didn't close them back, and Mariah goes on from </span>
  <em>
    <span>Fantasy</span>
  </em>
  <span> to </span>
  <em>
    <span>All I Want For Christmas is You </span>
  </em>
  <span>just as Stephen finally turns around enough that he spots Wong. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Far from stopping his improvised concert, Stephen quirks an eyebrow at Wong instead and, taking his hands off his salad bowl, takes his wooden spoon from it and starts using it as a pretend-microphone, looking directly into Wong's eyes as if daring him to say anything. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>"'Cause I just want you here tonight</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Holding on to me so tight</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>What more can I do</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Oh, baby all I want for Christmas is you…"</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"You look ridiculous." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"And you are a spoilsport." Stephen sticks his tongue at him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You have flour on your nose." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You </span>
  <em>
    <span>should</span>
  </em>
  <span> have flour on your nose, too." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"What are you even making?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"It's Christmas!" Stephen exclaims, shooting his arms in the end with his wooden spoon still dangling dangerously from his fingers, like that explains anything. "Veggie buffet and panned noodles, sir," he fakes a bow. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"That, does sound good." Wong says slowly, stepping forward to peer into the various bowls that litter the counter. "You know I don't celebrate Christmas though." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"So?" Stephen shakes his head, plopping his spoon back into the bowl to put his hands on his hips. "You're gonna say no to food you don't have to cook and a chance to take me on at the Name that Tune game that Stark said you'd never win?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"He said </span>
  <em>
    <span>you'd </span>
  </em>
  <span>never win." Wong crosses his arms. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stephen hums, like he was deep in reflection. “How many rounds?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wong considers. “Best out of five.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Give me conditions,” Stephen says, but Wong can tell the stirring is starting to tire his hands, so he gently takes over and nudges Stephen towards the griddle where the naan is ready to be fried. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You have to just do Eurovision winners from the 2000s,” Wong responds, “and I have to name Disney songs.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, you’re going </span>
  <em>
    <span>down</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” Stephen laughs. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They stop talking after that, just concentrating on finishing all the dishes Stephen's put into motion, both dealing with their own tasks. Cooking together is always quiet. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They're used to doing with what little they have, it's a chance they're both vegetarians, vegan even in Wong's case, because at least vegetables are cheap, but still. The kitchen is one of the ways they've found each other outside of the responsibilities they share and Wong is happy that they can have it as their parenthesis from the outside world. He won't tell him though. Stephen Strange should not be told he does good things too often. Big heads and all that. But Wong's pretty sure he knows anyway. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When they're settled in the mini-library they've repurposed as a living room and all the dishes Stephen's prepared and Wong put the finishing touches to are set around them, Wong realizes he was wrong. The house has not warmed him up. It's actually pretty chilly. That's no good. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He hears Stephen hum behind him, the tune of </span>
  <em>
    <span>All I Want For Christmas is You</span>
  </em>
  <span> apparently stuck in his head and getting dangerously close to getting stuck in Wong's as well, so Wong turns around and stares. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stephen gives him the most innocent look, and then, lifting a corner of the large green thing he's draped over himself, he offers "Blankets?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"How did you even know?" Wong huffs. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I know you." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wong just keeps staring at him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I'm cold too, that's it. That's all this is - just warm bodies and warm foods. We can watch a movie, even, after the game.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, let’s eat to the movie and then play the game. So, you’ll turn the terrible Christmas music off?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I will turn the </span>
  <em>
    <span>wonderful</span>
  </em>
  <span> and </span>
  <em>
    <span>seasonally appropriate</span>
  </em>
  <span> music so that we can watch a </span>
  <em>
    <span>wonderful</span>
  </em>
  <span> and </span>
  <em>
    <span>seasonally appropriate</span>
  </em>
  <span> film,” Stephen counters. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Die Hard</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No,” Stephen replies and grabs for the remote to activate Netflix. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Your inability to accept that </span>
  <em>
    <span>Die Hard</span>
  </em>
  <span> is a Christmas movie is one of the major things I hate about you,” Wong replies. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You hate nothing about me,” Stephen replies as he scrolls. “Ah! </span>
  <em>
    <span>It’s a Wonderful Life.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Explain to me how an emotionally manipulative movie about a man who doesn’t appreciate what he has is a Christmas movie.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Because it’s on television every Christmas and involves a tree and the true meaning of being a good person, you grump.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nicknames? Are you hanging out with Stark too much?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s not a nickname if it’s the truth. So no George Bailey, got it. What about Will Ferrell?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Elf </span>
  </em>
  <span>is fine,” Wong concedes and soon the only sounds in the room are the quiet slurping of the noodles and Buddy the Elf telling everyone that smiling is his favorite. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Soon the movie is over, and Wong has to actually blink a few times to chase the daze that's come over him there at the end. He straightens up and finds Stephen watching the credits like he always does. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Ready for the game?" </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I'm always ready." The man shifts a bit, sitting straighter before crossing his arm and giving him a way-too-wide grin that prompts Wong to wonder whether or not he'd spiced his bowl of noodle soup. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Prepare to lose then," Wong says. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"That stares would be impressive, maybe, if I didn't see you brush your teeth every other day." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Shut up." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Play the first song then." Stephen raises an eyebrow at him - Wong's seen him and Stark do that at each other a few times, ridiculous men. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He takes his phone out anyway, giving a passing thought to his old beat-up Nokia that's now forever turned off as he scrolls through to youtube. The sound on this one is definitely better, he can't argue there, but for this, he makes sure the bluetooth is on and waits for the little beep that tells him it's connected to their portable sound system, refraining from chuckling at the glee he can see in Stephen's eyes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Alright, Strange, you're up. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Now</span>
  </em>
  <span>." He presses play. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stephen closes his eyes as something he’d classify as ‘Latin Pop’ plays through the speakers. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>You Wanna</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” he says with smug confidence. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nope,” Wong says, matching the smug tone. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No?! It’s You Wanna by Latvia in 2002!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>I Wanna</span>
  </em>
  <span>, by Latvia in 2002,” Wong smiles widely, excited by his small victory. "I'm going down you said?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stephen huffs, but his ruffled look only lasts until he pulls up his own phone and winks at him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Your time to shine, Queen B."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He plays the song and Wong concentrates on the first few notes and immediately gets it - he's seen every movie Robin Williams is in, </span>
  <em>
    <span>including</span>
  </em>
  <span>…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Aladdin, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Friend Like Me</span>
  </em>
  <span>, 1992." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Damnit." Stephen groans. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Crying for victory too fast…" Wong muses, but instead of letting Stephen come up with a reply, he presses play on the next song, ready to laugh at the deep frown that sets over his friend's face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I know it. I know I do…" Stephen says, frustrated. "That guy… OH! Got it! Norway, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Fairytale</span>
  </em>
  <span>, 2009!" </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wong stares at Stephen, impassible, for a second. Then nods. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yes, yes indeed." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The next song Stephen gives him is </span>
  <em>
    <span>You'll be in my heart</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Tarzan but 1999 and not 1997 like he initially thought. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It's fun, and it goes on for a while, Stephen once again proving Wong just how much he's got stored in that big brain of his. But eventually, they both get tired and Wong finds he's fine with letting Stephen get away with the final point on that frankly horrible 2005 Greek Eurovision performance. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He takes care of putting the dishes and blankets away with a few well-placed spells and watches Stephen's relaxed face for a second. This was nice. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They walk to the big staircase together, Stephen yawning and Wong following right after, and when they say good night to each other, and he bids Stephen a merry Christmas, he's still got the tune of </span>
  <em>
    <span>You've Got a Friend in Me</span>
  </em>
  <span> playing at the back of his mind. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>"We stick together and can see it through</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>'Cause you've got a friend in me</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Yeah, you've got a friend in me,"</span>
  </em>
</p>
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